


all caught up in your ebb and flow

by flimsy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drug Use, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Intoxication, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 01:03:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flimsy/pseuds/flimsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Louis find something to do that <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sygVzv13HJw/Ub4fJN-iopI/AAAAAAAAu0I/uZTvl8q810w/s1600/tumblr_moi2ndfFIk1ra1ly1o2_1280.jpg">day</a> on the yacht.</p>
<p> <br/><i> “Don’t be a knob,” he says and nudges his nose against Liam’s arm again, faux-snapping for him until Liam catches his jaw in his hand to stop him. </i></p>
<p>  <i>“No biting.” He grins and presses his thumb squarely over Louis’ lips and Louis scrunches up his nose, half-amused, half-annoyed because he can’t move at all with Liam’s arm around his shoulder and his hand holding him tightly, locking him in. He wiggles his tongue out until his taste buds bloom up with the salt from the sea that’s still stuck to Liam’s skin, and cocks a brow at Liam, grinning against his thumb when Liam’s eyes widen a little, mouth forming a perfect little ‘O’. Liam releases his chin, brows furrowing, and Louis chases his hand with the flat of his tongue, laughing.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	all caught up in your ebb and flow

Louis falls asleep on the sundeck after the second joint, sprawled on a blanket with the sun heating his skin and teasing him even through the hat he’s pulled over his face to protect his eyes. He feels languid and sleepy from swimming, all glowing and sated from a few beers and with the slow hum of weed still whispering through his bones from the spliff he shared with Zayn mere minutes ago. The others are downstairs now, gathered around the table on the main deck, and, drifting off, he can hear them talking, can hear laughter and the clinking of bottles. 

He curls his toes a little, eyes fluttering shut, and gets distracted by the steady rhythm of his own breathing matching up with the sound of the waves hitting the boat, showering him in cold water periodically until he can feel himself slipping away. 

When he wakes up again, the wind is tugging at his sunhat; he grunts and rolls onto his side, mouth dry, body still warm from weed and beer. He sits up, his stomach curving, and squints up into the sky which is blue and cloudless still, like he’s only been asleep for a short time. There is no indication as to how long he was out exactly, but the noises from downstairs have subsided and it’s quiet save for the sound of the sea. 

He’s a bit unsteady on his feet when he finally gets up - the surface of the deck so hot it almost burns his feet - and makes his way downstairs quickly to find Niall tuckered out, curled into the corner of the sofa with his snapback over his eyes, sleeping with one leg hanging off the cushioned edge. 

Louis tiptoes past him carefully, grabbing a bottle of beer from the coolbox on the way and then slips downstairs into the air-conditioned inside of the ship where it’s dark and eerily quiet, the hardwood inlay of the floors and walls so polished they’re reflecting him as a vague silhouette as he moves deeper into the boat. The sound of the waves against the planks - loud out on the deck - is now dull, like a faint heartbeat. 

Louis smiles at the thought, takes a sip from his beer and shakes his head at himself. He passes the first bedroom to reach the kitchen where Harry and Zayn are curled up in the booth, their hair still wet, watching a movie on Harry’s laptop. Zayn’s face is soft and relaxed, eyes huge, and Louis leans against the doorframe, toasting them with his bottle.

“Cheers, mate,” Harry says, grinning at him without moving a single inch from where he’s sprawled against Zayn’s side. “We finished off the stuff,” he continues, still grinning. 

Louis snorts and shakes his head, catches Zayn’s eyes. Zayn tilts a brow at him, half a smirk tugging at his lips. He looks a bit like a cat who just drank an entire bowl of cream, satisfied and lazy and unashamed. “Good stuff,” Zayn says quietly, then rubs the corner of his mouth with the side of his thumb. “I saved you some more. But Harry doesn’t know. Don’t tell him, Lou.”

Louis takes another sip, nodding along slowly, focusing on Zayn. It takes all his willpower not to break out in giggles. “I won’t, I promise.”

“I don’t know anything,” Harry says. He stretches one arm and awkwardly worms his way closer to Zayn. “I know nil. Nothing. I am unknowing.”

Zayn makes a sound and ruffles his hair; Louis grins at them. He shifts, eyes the booth for a moment; Harry could make room and he’s sure Zayn is playing a good film, something Louis hasn’t seen before, but there is something oddly tender about the two of them that Louis doesn’t want to disturb. 

He salutes Zayn and continues his quest past maritime prints and framed shark teeth until he reaches the lounge, where Liam is sprawled with his legs dangling over one end of the massive white leather sofa, zapping through channels. His feet are naked and so is his chest, one arm stretched over his head, playing idly with his hair. 

Louis stops in the door, his toes just short of digging into the soft, furry carpet immersing the room in a sense of coziness that appeals to the side of him that’s still not come down, that’s still fascinated by the texture of everything he touches. 

He must’ve stood still for longer than it feels like, because Liam dips his head back and looks at Louis, grinning. “Hey, Tommo,” he says, waving with the remote. “C’mere. You look spooked.”

“I’m not spooked,” Louis says automatically, blinking himself out of his stupor and letting go of the doorframe, allowing the door to fall shut behind himself as he finally digs his toes into the carpet. “This carpet is like walking on sheep. Walking on a herd of sheep.”

Liam snorts and sits up, the muscles in his stomach visibly contracting, and beckons Louis again, reaching out for him. “Are you still high?” he asks and Louis squints, closing the remaining distance between them. 

“Yeah,” he replies. “‘Think so.” He drops down on the sofa next to Liam’s head, shivering as the cold leather touches his skin, and Liam draws his knees up to his chest and rotates his body around until he’s sitting up. He mutes the TV and Louis tilts his head at him, smiling a bit. Liam looks sleepy and content, a few new freckles spreading out over his shoulders, chest and face. 

He gives Louis a crooked smile, eyes wrinkling, and Louis ducks his head and looks away, feeling caught, oddly embarrassed. He takes a sip from his nearly empty bottle of beer and then finishes it off altogether, gingerly placing it on the floor before pulling his legs up. 

“It was a pretty good day, huh,” he says. Liam hums and Louis feels him shift, leaning back against the couch. His body is warm and he smells like the sea, salty with the tiniest hint of sweat and suncream, his arm brushing Louis’ shoulders where it’s resting against the backrest of the sofa. Louis sighs and closes his eyes, leaning his head against Liam’s arm. 

“I’m definitely still high,” he eventually says, feeling the urge to somehow fill the silence. “That was.” He stops, hums, the sound vibrating through his body. “Some good stuff.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, but he wraps his arm around Louis’ shoulder, thumb rubbing a circle where his hand comes to a rest. The touch sends a shiver through Louis and he stirs before he can stop himself, blinking his eyes open to meet Liam’s. 

“Good stuff,” Liam echoes very belatedly. He smiles at Louis again, this awry, charming, open smile, and continues, “You smell like the sun.”

Louis snorts and wiggles closer. “You smell like salt and sweat. Together we’re a summer holiday.”

That makes Liam laugh like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard and Louis bites his lip and feels a giggle bubble up followed by another and another until his face is all hot from laughing and he turns his head to hide against Liam, pressing his nose against his arm, not wanting Liam to see. 

“Hey, hey,” Liam says and Louis pouts, the texture of Liam’s skin suddenly soft against his lips. 

“No,” he grunts, certain that Liam can’t hear him. 

“Lou, Lou,” Liam starts again, sounding concerned, and Louis rolls his eyes and pulls away. Liam is staring at him, eyes narrow. “I thought you passed out,” he explains and Louis shakes his head. 

“Don’t be a knob,” he says and nudges his nose against Liam’s arm again, faux-snapping for him until Liam catches his jaw in his hand to stop him. 

“No biting.” He grins and presses his thumb squarely over Louis’ lips and Louis scrunches up his nose, half-amused, half-annoyed because he can’t move at all with Liam’s arm around his shoulder and his hand holding him tightly, locking him in. He wiggles his tongue out until his taste buds bloom up with the salt from the sea that’s still stuck to Liam’s skin, and cocks a brow at Liam, grinning against his thumb when Liam’s eyes widen a little, mouth forming a perfect little ‘O’. Liam releases his chin, brows furrowing, and Louis chases his hand with the flat of his tongue, laughing. 

“Salty,” he manages before latching onto the heel of Liam’s hand, gently sucking; he shifts until he finds himself off balance and catches himself against Liam’s thigh, squeezing it gently where he feels Liam’s muscles, all the hours Liam spends at the gym tangible under his fingers. 

“Hey,” Liam says quietly, but Louis ignores him, mouth watering from the taste of Liam’s skin; he moves down his wrist, licking over the curve of the feather down to the arrows, tracing each tip with his tongue, imagining that they taste different, more earth than salt. It’s only when he feels Liam’s fingers in his hair, tracing his ear, his skull, that Louis notices that he’s closed his eyes and got lost a bit.

“Tommo.” Liam sounds hoarse and this time Louis pulls back. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, frowning when the watery salty-sweaty taste suddenly mixes with sun oil and beer. 

“Payno,” he replies and drops his body against Liam’s arm, his side pressed against Liam’s torso. He feels strangely safe under Liam’s arm like this, curled against him, and for a moment he thinks about resting his head against Liam’s shoulder and going back to sleep, because it would be so easy and it would be the perfect end to a perfect day, falling asleep to the sounds of the ocean outside, to the warmth of Liam’s body comfortably aligned with his own. 

“Don’t you dare fall asleep,” Liam says as if he’s been reading Louis’ mind and Louis sighs and opens his eyes just in time to catch Liam reaching out for him again. He nudges Louis’ nose with his forefinger and Louis laughs and fixates on it, cross-eyed, feeling dizzy from the strain. 

The look in Liam’s eyes is intense, dark, and Louis tries to focus, but fails when Liam traces his fingers down the slope of his nose, carefully trailing along Louis’ philtrum to his cupid’s bow, a feather light touch that sends a shiver down Louis’ spine and has him hold his breath. The rush of blood in his ears is deafening and his throat feels tight, the palms of his hands tingly with excitement; he opens up eagerly, almost embarrassed at himself, when Liam prompts him to, fingers nudging into Louis’ mouth. 

Liam visibly swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing, and barely audibly says, “Yeah-” 

He presses his fingers in and Louis flicks his tongue out to meet them, but finds them nudging uncomfortably against the back of his throat. He pulls away and catches Liam’s wrist in his hand, then sucks his forefinger into his mouth, cushioning it against his tongue and wraps his lips around its base. He knows he looks obscene and the thought stains his cheeks, makes him lower his gaze to avoid seeing the look on Liam’s face. He sucks lightly, more sea salt flooding his mouth, and Liam inhales sharply, his body tensing up. 

The weed, Louis tells himself, the weed, he repeats in his head, it’s okay, and he pulls off Liam’s finger with a ‘pop’ and moves onto the next, licking at the tip, imagining that the texture of Liam’s skin is merging with his tongue, feeling where it’s calloused from weights, a little rough, sucking the salt from his pores with his heart pounding like a diesel motor and every single nerve in his body aflame from the way Liam’s other hand closes around the small of his neck, lightly gripping him and holding him there, from the way Liam’s muscles are twitching in his arm, the way his breathing is filling Louis’ ears with a rush that’s louder than any spindrift or plunging breakers against rocky shores. 

He hears Liam say his name, once, twice, but doesn’t move away until his voice grows more insistent, his fingers digging into Louis’ neck and urging him off. 

“Yeah?” Louis manages, his own voice hoarse and alien in his eyes, but doesn’t dare clear his throat, not wanting to draw more attention to it. He’s light-headed, giddy, and Liam is still touching him, encouraging him to come closer. 

“What’s-” Liam says again and shakes his head. His face is red, too, lips dark and wet like he’s just been kissed and Louis can’t help but stare, scooting even closer, manoeuvring until he’s nearly in Liam’s lap. 

“I like salt,” he says dumbly, feeling too incoherent for a more elaborate explanation as to why he’s fellating Liam’s fingers, why he wants to suck at his neck and see if the sea managed to seep in there too, if Liam is all over salty. “You’re salty,” he adds and then leans down and licks Liam’s shoulder before he can stop himself, body acting before his mind has even caught up, all instinct and animalistic drive. 

Liam moans and Louis bites his shoulder, then moves on to his neck, sucking a love bite into the skin right where the tendon of Liam’s shoulder arches into the muscle of his neck, where he knows it’ll be hardest to hide. He sucks until Liam’s hands come up and close around his waist, pull him closer, until Liam shifts him up so he’s straddling Liam’s lap, and then sucks a little more until Liam moans again, dark and guttural and throaty, a sound from the depths like a sea dwelling monster. 

Louis stops, breathing hard, and giggles at himself, then nuzzles Liam’s neck. “You sound like a sea monster,” he breathes out against Liam’s skin. “You sound like the Loch Ness monster.” Liam tightens his grip on Louis’ waist like he’s afraid Louis will move away, like he’s afraid that Louis is scared now, and Louis laughs again and sits up, nudging his nose against Liam’s chin. “Will you eat me? I’m not frightened, silly monster.”

Liam makes that sound again, but this time Louis doesn’t laugh. He sits up until the stubble on Liam’s chin tickles his lips, then more until he can lick the salt off Liam’s lower lip. 

“You’re so high,” Liam says against Louis’ mouth, lips soft as they move. “Really, Lou-” 

Louis hums in agreement and then kisses into Liam’s mouth because it’s right there like an invitation, like Louis claimed him ages ago and only now remembered and it’s all there, Liam is all his; he licks into Liam’s mouth, chasing the sea, and lets his tongue meet Liam’s. 

The kiss is soft and curious and one-sided at first until Liam sighs, seems to allow himself to be dragged along by the current and kisses back, first biting at Louis’ bottom lip and then pulling him in by his waist. He drops one hand to Louis’ arse, squeezing, and Louis squeaks in surprise and glee and moans into his mouth, grinding down, and kisses him a bit harder, breathing fast through his nose, body starting to grow hot. 

“So’re you,” he presses out between a kiss, remembering he hasn’t answered Liam yet, “you had some too, we’re both-” Liam nips at his lip and then digs his fingers into his arse again, and Louis tilts his head back, swallowing against the tight strain, heart racing. 

“Let me see,” Liam says, his voice rough, “let me see if you’re salty too-” 

Louis wants to tell him that he’s not, that he probably tastes like lotion and if he’s poetic, like the sun, that Liam probably tastes much better, but it’s all lost when he suddenly feels Liam’s mouth close around his nipple, feels the scrape of teeth over sensitive skin, and trembles like a buoy at sea in Liam’s hands at the intense flood of arousal washing over him. 

“Ah,” he says and again, “ah-” His voice breaks at the end but can’t find it in him to care anymore when Liam sucks with more intent, toeing the line between pleasure and pain. Louis makes another sound, rocks down, his cock growing hard in his trunks, and rolls his arse into Liam’s grip more when he feels Liam’s dick twitch. 

“This okay?” he asks and does it again, Liam’s breath ghosting hotly over his chest when he grinds down on Liam’s cock. He feels in control for a moment, empowered by the way Liam’s hips jerk up each time he moves down to rub his arse against his crotch, but then Liam slides his hand up Louis’ chest and flicks his thumb over his nipple, the one that’s already wet and bitten and sensitive, and Louis shudders hard, reaching out to balance himself, holding onto Liam’s shoulders. 

“You’re so bloody responsive,” Liam whispers, turning his head to blow over Louis’ other nipple, and Louis sinks his nails into Liam’s shoulder, trying desperately to hold back the sound threatening to tear to from his lips. It breaks loose like a ship caught in a storm and Louis drops forward, mouthing at Liam’s ear and cheek, wiggling his hips until he can feel Liam’s cock align with the crack of his arse. He squeezes a little, groaning, but smiles, satisfied, when Liam swears against his chest, then pulls his hand away to spank him lightly. 

“Unfair,” Liam grunts, “fuck-” He moves to meet Louis, thrusting up, and Louis pulls away to meet his eyes, his face hot, hair sticking to his forehead. 

“‘s good for you?” he asks, resisting the urge to reach down and grab his own cock. He wants something else, he wants to feel Liam’s hand, he wants it rough now that he knows what Liam’s hands feel like. The thought makes him squeeze his eyes shut and he whines, Liam’s name before he can hold back. He fumbles for Liam’s hand on his chest and guides it down to where his cock is denting his trunks and to his surprise Liam doesn’t hesitate; he slips Louis’ cock out of the slit and rubs his thumb over the tip and getting Louis slick with his own precome, before wrapping his hand around the base and stroking up.

“Liam-” Louis bites his lip and bumps his nose into Liam’s, kissing at his lips. He can’t focus enough to do it properly, though; his head is spinning and Liam is teasing along the underside of his cock with a gentle finger when all Louis wants is to thrust up. He whines, drawing the sound out, and feels his thighs quiver with the effort to stay still. 

Liam’s nose nudges against his neck, then his throat, and then Liam’s mouth is right there, sucking a bruise into Louis’ skin that Louis can sense blossoming up, reddening, already. He lets his head fall back and breathes out in relief when Liam’s hand on his arse starts guiding him into a rhythm, pushing until Louis finds himself following, thrusting up into Liam’s hand and rocking back down to align Liam’s cock between his cheeks. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s it-” Liam’s breath is hot and moist against Louis’ neck, and it shouldn’t be so sexy because Louis has heard him call people pet names before, countless times, but this time it feels like something electric, like Louis’ touched an open wire. He speeds up a little, uses a shaky hand to join Liam’s hand on his own cock to show him how he likes it, to squeeze a little tighter; Liam whispers something unintelligible against Louis’ neck and thumbs the tip of Louis’ dick again, teases until Louis is so close, precome dribbling down his fingers, his cock twitching in both their hands. 

“Oh, god-” he moans, “oh, fuck, Liam-” He shivers again and Liam bites his neck, white noise rushing up Louis’ spine, filling his head. 

“That’s it-” Liam’s voice is gone, too, so hoarse Louis only barely catches it when he says, “Do yourself, Lou, I need-” He lets go of Louis’ cock and moves to grab his arse with his other hand, too, palming Louis’ cheeks roughly, forcing him down onto his cock more until Louis finds himself rubbing down rather than riding, his trunks wedged into his crack and Liam’s cock pressing in tightly enough for Louis to feel the head. 

He drops his forehead against Liam’s shoulder and buries his face there, blinking, his lashes brushing over Liam’s sweat-sticky skin. He whimpers against Liam’s neck and starts wanking himself off, trying to keep his hips still because Liam is still holding him down. It takes them a moment or two to fall into a rhythm, for Louis to go with the flow, with the pace Liam is setting for the both of them. He stays burrowed against Liam, moving his hand faster, mind blank from how hard his cock is and Liam’s heavy breathing, his scent and skin all encompassing, cancelling everything out. 

Louis feels small and compressed, like the space between the molecules in his body is suddenly filled with seawater, drowning him from within, and he can feel Liam rubbing up against him, getting himself off with Louis’ body, his fingers digging into Louis’ flesh hard enough for Louis to know he’ll bruise, to know he’ll find blue marks all over himself tomorrow. 

He groans, hips jerking, and sucks in a long breath that tastes like ice-cold water, sharp and cold, his chest, stomach, spine lighting up in wildfire. “Liam, I’m-” he manages and stops himself, biting his lip hard; the pain only sharpens the sensation of his budding orgasm and he comes, spilling over his hand and Liam’s stomach, eyes wide, staring down from where he’s curled against Liam’s shoulder and chest, watching himself. For a second it’s like he’s detached from his body, nothing but static in his ears, but he snaps back to the sound of his own voice.

“Liam-” he manages and Liam grunts; he grabs Louis’ arse harder, hauling him up, and Louis follows the lead, sitting up, pliant in his afterglow. He kisses along Liam’s jaw and then the corner of his mouth until Liam kisses back, more frantic than before, their pace mismatched until Louis makes an effort to catch up. 

“Just let me-” Liam starts and breaks off again, then releases Louis and fumbles with his flies before tugging Louis’ trunks over the curve of his arse, letting them to sit against the crease of his thighs, the elastic band cutting in. Louis bites down on Liam’s lip hard, stomach twisting in arousal, and sits back down, rolling his hips a bit until Liam’s cock slides between his cheeks. 

Liam is staring up at him now, lips parted and eyes dark. He grabs hold of Louis’ hips again, hands large enough to frame them, with his fingers digging into his arse, and thrusts up, dry-humping against Louis. Louis can feel him, feels his cock twitch each time Liam presses closer, each time he speeds up, and if he hadn’t just come he’d be getting hard again from just this, just the way the head of Liam’s cock snags against his opening every other time. 

“Ah-” He swallows and straightens his back and Liam half-laughs, half-groans, stuttering in his rhythm. 

“I- fuck-,” he says, “I wanna be inside you, Lou, I wish I could come inside you-” He groans again and Louis closes his eyes and imagines it; his hole tightens at the thought of Liam filling him up, of Liam pushing inside and splitting him open. When he looks at Liam again, his expression is intense, strained. He grips Louis’ arse harder, nails cutting in, and tilts his hips up a little until Louis almost thinks he’s going to try and push inside, his cock pressing in, hard and hot, and Louis nearly wishes he did. 

“Fuck me, fuck me-” he breathes, stumbling over the words and losing his voice, and Liam’s face goes slack very suddenly and his cock twitches between Louis’ cheeks. Louis feels him come, wet and sticky, riding up through it and after a moment he collapses against the sofa, hands falling to his side, looking spent, an idiotic, satisfied grin on his face.

Louis shifts, sinking down a little, his heart racing, feeling dizzy and oddly clear suddenly, aware of the little hairs on Liam’s chest under his hand and the way the leather of the sofa moulds around his knees, the texture of Liam’s cheek against his own when he leans in again, the touch of Liam’s hand on his waist, thumb rubbing circles just under his nipple, suddenly retracing the shape of what he’s said mere seconds ago. 

“Lou?” Liam says and it sounds far away, unfocused through the panic that’s suddenly filling Louis’ head. He turns away, shaky hands hastily pulling up his trunks as he sits up, then awkwardly climbs off Liam’s lap, tripping over his own feet, muscles cramping momentarily from the way he’d been straddling Liam. 

“Louis?” Liam asks again, more worried this time. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Louis says muffled and adjusts himself, tucking his soft dick back into his trunks. He avoids looking at Liam whose dick is still hanging out of his flies and who’s giving him the most concerned look, eyebrows drawn together. “Just need to shower.”

“Okay,” Liam replies slowly and sits up, moves as if he’s going to reach for Louis but then drops his hand again. 

“Right,” Louis says. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and then rolls his shoulders, trying to shrug off the feeling is trying to creep down his back. “Shower.” He doesn’t wait for Liam’s answer and all but bails, heart racing. He just. He needs to peel off his sticky trunks before the mess goes dry and gross, and he needs to turn his head off and quit thinking. Maybe Zayn’ll have another blunt for him later, he thinks, sliding into the bathroom. Maybe that’ll help. 

He undresses and in the mirror the forming bruises on his neck and hips are dark against his skin, some of them like a proper handprint, others nothing but red smudges. Louis stares at himself for a moment and feels his face heat up again, embarrassed. He gets in the shower and drops his head against the warming tiles; his mind is racing again, replaying from beginning to end what happened and he can hear his own voice echoing in his head, begging Liam to- He makes himself stop, frustrated, and finishes washing, feeling on edge. 

Half an hour later, he’s showered and in clean clothes, grey joggers and a tank top, but there’s no more weed. Zayn and Harry finished the last bit off together on the deck like proper traitors and all Louis can do is find another bottle of beer and hide at the front of the boat, where he hopes nobody will find him. He scrolls through Twitter and sturdily ignores the nagging voice inside his head telling him to check on Liam, to make sure that they’re okay. Maybe, he stupidly thinks, Liam has forgotten. Maybe in the heat of the moment what was said has got lost even though Louis remembers clearly.

He stays put for the longest time, until he’s itching to get up; the sun is about to set and he knows they will be heading back soon, back to the harbor and the bus. He sighs and climbs to his feet, feeling a bit buzzed from the beer, but the high of the joint he smoked earlier long gone. He paces around the boat for a while until he’s gathered enough courage to find Liam, who’s spread out on the small one-person deck right on top of the boat; he’s in aviators and reading something on his iPad, scrolling and smiling. Louis watches him for a moment and then climbs the ladder up until he can sit next to him and pokes his calf with his hand even though Liam must’ve noticed him already. 

“Hey,” he says and squints against the red light of the setting sun. 

Liam smiles at him and puts his iPad down, nudging him back with his knee against Louis’. “Hey,” he replies. He looks hesitant when he takes off his glasses, cheeks red from the sun, lips a bit chapped. Louis stares at him and doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to apologise because he’s not sorry, but his brain is refusing to come up with anything else that makes sense, that’s not just a jumble of words that may or may not explain his inner workings, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Liam clears his throat and then looks down at his hands, eyebrows drawn together. After a long moment, he shifts again, shoulders straightening a little, sitting up more until he’s taller than Louis again. “Are we okay?” he asks and Louis opens and closes his mouth and then finally nods, his heart thumping fast. 

“I- yes.” He stops, feels his cheeks go hot again. “I didn’t mean to bail. I was just-”

Liam nods before Louis has finished and says, “It was a lot. I’m sorry,” like he means it, like he really thinks he’s done something wrong and that it wasn’t just Louis freaking out. “I was more sober, I should have-” 

“No, no,” Louis says quickly and reaches out to touch Liam’s knee, squeezing instinctively, his need to offer comfort to Liam much stronger than his lingering anxiety. “I’m not,” he continues. “Sorry, that is. I just. I said I wanted you to fuck me.” He cringes at himself and hides his face against his knees. “That’s pretty- you know.” 

Liam laughs, sounding half scandalised and half amused. “I said I wanted to-” He stops again and then pokes Louis in the arm and Louis peeks up to see his face. “You know what I said, don’t make me say it.” He pulls a face and then shrugs. 

Louis shakes his head and scrunches up his nose, but feels much lighter than before already. “I’m embarrassed,” he finally admits. Liam is silent for what feels like an eternity, and then pulls Louis into a hug. He smells fresh and showered too, soap and boy, and Louis grunts and pretends to struggle against him shortly before giving in. 

“Don’t be,” Liam says muffled against the top of his head. “It was hot.” He squeezes Louis’ shoulders and Louis curls closer before pulling away and punching Liam in the shoulder. His skin feels electric where it touches against Liam’s and from the look in Liam’s eyes, he can tell that Liam feels it too. 

“Are we-” he starts, interrupting himself to pick at a thread on his joggers. “I mean, this wasn’t just because of the weed, right,” he says. The wind is loud around them, filling Louis’ ears, and he holds his breath, looking up to meet Liam’s eyes. 

“No.” Liam ducks his head and smiles at Louis, small and secretive, in a way that makes Louis want to reach out for him, and so he does, sneaking his hand across the deck to touch Liam’s and Liam tangles their fingers together, still smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Sam](http://dazy-laze.tumblr.com) for britpicking and [Jamie](http://flowersmaywilt.tumblr.com/) for reading it over ♥


End file.
